In Shades of Grey
by Darkdiva14
Summary: If Jean Grey is supposedly cool, calm and collected, imagine what her sister would have been like? How linked to the story do you think she would have been? And what would she have brought to the table? Full summary inside...if you dare...
1. Chapter 1

Hi, everyone. Just wanted to put this little disclaimer out there. X-Men do not belong to me. However, Natasha Greshnev in all of her gorgeous spunkiness belongs to me. Hope you like her.

Summary: From the time she was ten, Natasha Greshnev was a tough cookie to crack and grew up to be a sarcastic, cold assassin with a hidden mutation. But when Professor X calls her back to the mansion, Natasha finds herself growing fond of a new mutant that reminds her of her, dangerously attracted to the infamous Wolverine and thrown into the war looming ahead against Magneto. It's been a long time, but can Natasha still fit the X-Men suit? Or has her heart become too tainted with the blood she's shed?

The Beginning

Mutation: it is the key to our evolution. It has enabled us to evolve from a single-celled organism into the dominant species on the planet. This process is slow and normally taking thousands and thousands of years. But every few hundred millennia, evolution leaps forward.

"_Look, sweetie, your Daddy and I have to leave you here with this nice man," her mother said soothingly. The little girl stared up at her mother with emotionless green eyes and her mother sighed sadly. "Just know that we love you both very much." The older girl, who was roughly about twelve, nodded._

"_We know, mommy," she replied. Their father was standing by the door refusing to meet either pair of eyes. The older girl frowned a little before smiling at her mother. "We'll call you every Friday and we'll send you letters." Their mother smiled with tears overflowing from her eyes._

"_I'll miss you," the woman said and kissed both of their cheeks. "Both of you." She reached over to stroke the curly hair over her youngest child. But the girl snatched away from her and slid closer to her sister, holding the older girl's hand. Their mother flinched at the sudden hatred blaring in her youngest daughter's eyes, but refused to say anything more._

_Waving at the girls, she walked over to her husband and grasped his hand. With one final smile, they closed the large doors. The two girls just stared at it, both wondering if their parents truly even cared that this might be the last time they see them. _

"_Calm yourself," a male voice said and just like that, the chairs, sofas and bookshelf fell to the floor. "They're gone now. And this is your home now. Never forget that."_

She stared at the floor, eyes burning a hole into the concrete. It was hot and she was sweaty and her wrists hurt from having ropes tied around them against this horrible wooden chair. The left side of her face stung from where she'd been slapped and the little pieces of wood in the chair slid against her bare, creamy thighs.

The men chuckled around her and she cursed them all to hell.

"Bet ya don't got big shit to say now, huh bitch?" The muscular man sneered. She raised her head up to him, green eyes blaring with hatred.

"Of course I wouldn't," she shot back. "I wouldn't want to open my mouth too long and inhale the stench of horny, pathetic losers like you. Oh, and the next time you want to hit me, try to make it hurt. You hit like a baby." She even had the audacity to smirk. He frowned.

After one beat, his fist slammed into the right side of her face and she let out a small cry of pain as her head whipped to the side. His ring cut the side of her lip and she tasted her blood in her mouth, spitting it out disgustedly. The other men laughed.

"You never know when to shut your mouth, do you Natalie?" He taunted and she wanted to curse him for getting her name wrong. But instead of replying, she spat on his brand new shoes. She let out another cry as he gripped a fistful of her chin-length, curly ruby red hair and lifted her head up. "I am going to have so much fun breaking you." She rolled her eyes.

"If you're going to attempt to kill me, get on with it so I can kill you. I have a lot better things to be doing right now like…I don't know, getting a life?" Her witty comebacks had been pushing him all night and now, it was time to end this.

"Well, if you're so ready to die –

Just as he lifted his fist to punch her again, a ring went off in the room. Everyone turned to her black purse, which they had conveniently put on the table. All eyes were on the muscular man as he released her and walked over to the bag. He took her phone out and flipped it open. _Invasion of my fucking privacy? Oh, he's definitely on my list_, she thought and glared at him.

"Look, if you think you're talking to Little Miss –

"Put her on the phone," the male voice on the phone said calmly and instinctively, the muscular man handed her the phone. She maneuvered it so that the phone was between her head and her shoulder.

"What?"

"I need your help, dear," he said into the phone and she widened her eyes.

"Are you serious right now?" She yelled into the phone. "I am in the middle of busting a drug dealer who played a trick on a Russian mafia boss and you want my help?" The man on the other end chuckled and everyone else in the room just stared around at each other, clueless.

"This is a little more urgent," he told her and she rolled her eyes. "The matter is a little more…delicate than you think. And this might involve Magneto." Almond-shaped green eyes widened before she smiled.

"Please hold, Professor," she said smoothly and the muscular man took the phone from her. Before he could too far away, she head-butted him and when he fell back with a groan, she kicked her legs up, kicking him right in the jaw. Even before he hit the ground, she was on her feet, still attached to the chair. She slammed the back of the chair into one guy, effectively stabbing him with one of the legs. When another slammed her into the wall, he broke the chair, thus freeing her.

She grabbed a broken leg and hit him in the front of the head with it, knocking him out. The last guy lunged at her and she – thinking about her thigh-length dress – she mindfully high-kicked him in the chest, knocking him into the wall. Before the guy could get up, she already was before him and slammed his head into the wall. He was out like a light. The muscular guy tried to crawl away and she grinned. Glancing at one of the chains he threatened to use on her, she acted quickly.

She grabbed the chains and grabbed him by his legs, yanking him to the balcony. She wrapped the chain around his left leg and then dragged him to his feet. They stood at the balcony.

"Please," he begged pathetically. "Please don't kill me." She chuckled.

"Who's the bitch now, bitch?" She taunted and threw him over. He screamed as he fell and let out an even louder scream when the chain stopped. She had tied it around the railing. So, he now hung thirty feet in the air waiting for the cops to arrive. She grabbed her purse, her heels and her phone, putting the phone at her ear. "Okay, Professor, talk."

Oooooo

She pulled the hood down as she stepped into seedy, over-crowded bar. It reeked of sweat, sex, food and musk, all of which stung her nose. Glancing around herself, she pulled the cloak closer to her petite body and tried to make herself appear invisible in the crowd. As she made her way through people, she heard some guy talking really loudly and looked up at the cage.

She wasn't really focusing on what was being sad. Her eyes were trained on the man leaning against the inside of the cage. She watched, transfixed, as he took a large puff of the cigar and dragged it out, letting the smoke surround him sensually as he exhaled. He looked like he was in his mid-thirties maybe and yet…there was a rugged handsomeness that she couldn't place. He was muscled and tanned and had dark hair and muttonchops that looked rough. But his eyes were what softened everything. They were a nice hazel color and they looked so beautiful, it was hard to look away. Until someone bumped her and she kept walking.

"Water, please," she said quietly and sat on one of the stools at the bar. The bartender nodded as someone chuckled to her left.

"Aren't you a little too young to be at a bar, sweetie?" The female voice asked and she turned.

"I'm a lot older than I look," she said pointedly at the beautiful redhead. Natasha smiled softly at the small comeback, which was truly rare because Natasha only had two soft spots. And they were her sister and the professor.

"I'm sure," Natasha replied sarcastically, taking a gulp of her bourbon. It was a nice blend of smooth liquor and sweetness, leaving a refreshing feeling in her mouth. She then got the bartender's attention as he came back out of the back with a basket and the girl's water. "Give her the food. Something tells me you haven't eaten since you were in New York." The girl's eyes widened.

"How did you know that?" She asked. Natasha grinned.

"Let's just say I'm on your side." The girl gulped as she stared into those expressive green eyes.

"How do you know I even have a side?" Natasha shrugged.

"Everyone has a side," she told the girl, bringing her glass back to her lips. "And let's just say I've been on yours for a while now. How do you think you even got your ride to Laughlin City without pay?" The girl shrugged at Natasha and she looked so innocent. It was hard to believe that the girl had traveled to Canada all the way from Mississippi.

"He was being nice?" She asked and Natasha smirked.

"Trust me, sweetie, you're a long ways from the South. And chivalry is dead around these parts," Natasha said dryly before drinking some more. "Now, eat your food, Rogue. I already know you're hungry." Rogue didn't question the pretty woman anymore. She just dug into the burger and fries.

Natasha observed the girl sympathetically. Rogue was fifteen and was meant to be small at the moment. But Natasha could see that Rogue had thinned down. She looked younger than her fifteen years and her big dark brown eyes were saddened. Pale skin was covered by a long sleeved shirt, a heavy green cloak, black pants, and boots. Dark brown hair was tied back and Natasha could make out the black leather hands. All of those layers simply made her smaller and that scared the shit out of Natasha because for all she knew, the girl could have been close to starving to death had Natasha never come.

Natasha nodded to the bartender and he poured so more liquor into her glass and set the bottle on the counter for her. She raised an eyebrow as he smiled.

"Let's just say it's on the house, sweetheart," he told her and left it that. But Natasha couldn't leave it at that and read his thoughts while he walked to the other side of the bar.

_So what if the Wolverine usually takes that bottle. She deserves it for taking care of that girl like that_, he was thinking, rummaging through his liquor supply for more bourbon. Natasha took a drink, wondering who this Wolverine was when a loud growl escaped the cage and both her and Rogue's eyes were drawn to it.

Apparently, the idiot in the cage thought that it was a good idea to punch the other guy in the face. So, the other man let out this loose, threatening growl that sent chills down Natasha's spine. Growling again, the angry man landed a solid blow to the idiot's face, knowing him out instantly. The crowd went into uproar instantly; some were shouting in triumph for placing bets on him and others booed him.

"I give you your King of the Cage, the Wolverine," the meek announcer exclaimed into the announcer and tried to pull Wolverine's hand up, but it didn't budge until the Wolverine raised his hands in the air, basking in the hatred, lust and admiration. The noise drowned out for Natasha, however. All she could focus on was the man and his beautiful eyes.

Those eyes just spoke of danger, of dark, burning desires. She could practically see all of the things he had done in those eyes, in and out of the bedroom. Dark hair and muttonchops seemed feral and rough to the touch, but Natasha found herself imagining how soft they would be in her hands as she kissed those firm lips. His body reminded you of heavy weight boxers, dark tanned skin stretching to accommodate intimidating, sinewy muscles. Natasha could feel her eyes tracing the smooth and probably hard planes of his chest and down to his six pack and even lower to where those tight jeans clung to him, hiding the delicious package that lay beneath.

_What the fuck? _Natasha thought and shook her head, casting her eyes away from Wolverine. She didn't think like this. She honestly didn't care about men that much and when she did, it was a quick fuck that she normally took control of. And while that never left her fully satisfied, it left her sated for the time being and kept her in control. Being more involved meant emotional shit and that just wasn't on Natasha's agenda.

But never had she studied a man this intensely and just as her mind trailed off to what the man could probably do with that body, her own body responded. She felt herself grow extremely wet and squeezed her thighs together tightly. Her nipples puckered beneath her sports bra and she thanked whatever deity out for reminding her to keep her coat on. Natasha clenched her thighs together tightly as the warmth seeped out. She raised her eyes and let out an audible gasp.

He was looking straight at her! His nostrils were flaring and for the love all things holy, Natasha felt like he could smell her in the crowd.

_Holy fuck! That is not possible_, she hissed in her head.

_**Quite so, dear, **_the professor said mentally. _**Ferals can pinpoint any scent that they please. Even in a crowded room. **_The professor was gone before Natasha could kick him out. He knew she hated people in her head; it was bad enough she was in there and Natasha was referring to herself.

She watched Wolverine's hazel eyes darken and she could've sworn he snarled at her. Did he smell her arousal? She didn't want to believe it, but when he bared teeth at her, she did. His eyes slid over her face and even though she was fully clothed, she could feel his eyes all over her body, as if he was mentally peeling off every layer of clothing and about to fuck her –

"Are you okay?" Rogue asked in that sweet little Southern drawl, snapping Natasha away from her thoughts away from the Wolverine's dangerously darkening eyes. Natasha let out a quiet gulp and gave Rogue and a chilling smile.

"Of course," she replied and took a swig straight from the bottle. Rogue gave her a curious stare, stared back to the cage to find that the Wolverine had disappeared and then turned her eyes back to Natasha.

"Y'all know each other?" She asked. Natasha shook her head quickly.

"Not quite," Natasha said and Rogue nodded, excusing herself to the bathroom. Rogue wanted to wash up a little. Natasha nodded to the bartender as he politely took away Rogue's empty basket of food.

Fifteen minutes later, a door swung open. The bar was practically empty now. After the last fight, people realized that they wasted their money on bets and ran on home. Others just didn't want to run into the Wolverine. That other guy given him a nice punch and no one wanted to fuck with the Wolverine when he was pissed.

"Bourbon," a deep, rough voice said gruffly on her left and the bartender gave him a glass. Natasha heard a lighter go off and turned just as the Wolverine took a long, heavy suck of the cigarette. The smoke created a sensual haze between them and the woody, dark scent filled Natasha's nostils.

Hazel clashed with green.

Natasha stared at Wolverine impassively before taking another swig of her liquor. She didn't know the Wolverine. She didn't know a damn thing about him.

Yet.


	2. Chapter 2

Hi, everyone. Just wanted to put this little disclaimer out there. X-Men do not belong to me. However, Natasha Greshnev in all of her gorgeous spunkiness belongs to me. Hope you like her.

Summary: From the time she was ten, Natasha Greshnev was a tough cookie to crack and grew up to be a sarcastic, cold assassin with a hidden mutation. But when Professor X calls her back to the mansion, Natasha finds herself growing fond of a new mutant that reminds her of her, dangerously attracted to the infamous Wolverine and thrown into the war looming ahead against Magneto. It's been a long time, but can Natasha still fit the X-Men suit? Or has her heart become too tainted with the blood she's shed?

So, I know I haven't given much for y'all to think about when y'all envision Natasha. So, think about Scarlet Johansson as Black Widow in the Avengers movie. Ya know, with the haircut? I'm a girl and even I thought she looked sexy as hell.

**Smart Ass**

Logan took another puff of the cigar, letting the smoke relax him. Or at least attempt to relax him. That fucker got him good with that left hook. Didn't even see it coming. It hurt like a motherfucker for a minute. Now, the bruise was fully healed, but Logan wasn't calm yet.

And it was all because of _her_.

Logan hadn't even seen her coming. He'd been too wrapped up in the fight, wanting nothing more than to gut the little punk that hit him. But amidst the noise and the vomit-inducing stench surrounding the bar, he smelled her. And Goddamnit did she smell good. The first whiff of her filled his nostrils with the perfect combination of cinnamon and vanilla. But then that second whiff…that was enough to make a man go crazy.

Logan was used to the scent of arousal. After the number of women he's fucked, a woman's arousal was the first thing he'd notice whenever he stepped into a room. But for her, it was different. Her scent was stronger. Darker, heavier. It teased his senses and made his mouth water. It made Wolverine hungry, goaded the beast into taking what it wanted.

And it wanted her. With a fiery passion.

It had punched Logan hard and he scanned the entire room before he found her. And he had almost thrown himself at the bars of the cage just to get to her. She was seated with some young girl, probably trying to remain invisible in the ever-growing crowd. But he saw her and Wolverine loved what he saw.

Even sitting down, she would probably be just a few centimeters shorter than he was or at least the same height. She had clear, fair skin that Logan just wanted to taste, pouty lips that just begged to be kissed, almond shaped green eyes that mesmerized you and chin-length, curly ruby-red hair that Logan wanted to run his fingers through. Wolverine was thinking an entirely different thing.

He wanted to leave marks all over that skin, let the whole world know she was his and _only _his. He couldn't see the outline of her curves beneath the layers she wore, but he knew just exactly what he'd be doing to her either way. Wolverine gave Logan images of them pounding her into oblivion from behind, gripping that curly hair as he thrust in and out and in and out and in and –

_Shut the fuck up_, Logan growled at the beast and Wolverine retreated to his cage with a smug smirk.

_**For now. But she will be ours. Just wait**_. Logan shuddered at the thought and glanced back at Natasha, who grinned to herself as she set her glass back down on the table.

"I know I'm gorgeous and all, but you don't have to stare so blatantly," she said, not even looking at him. But Logan knew she was talking to him. He chuckled.

"Don't flatter yourself, darlin,'" he replied dryly and she let out the sexiest little giggle he'd ever heard.

"Darlin', huh? Don't you only use that for those little floozies you screw with?" Natasha inquired, turning those enchanting eyes to Logan. But he wasn't fooled. Most guys probably fell for those eyes on the spot and ended up getting played. But Logan was the player here.

"Why? Wanna be the next?"

Natasha felt her heart race at those words. Fuck yeah, she'd love to be the next. It wouldn't matter if they made it to a motel, to a car, or against a wall. Hell, she was already imagining him throwing her down to the floor. Natasha took a drink at that thought. Rogue needed to get the hell outta that bathroom. Natasha needed her to keep sane.

"You wish," she purred. The bartender, wiping out a glass, glanced between the two before chuckling, shaking his head as he walked on the other side of the bar. These two seemed like a perfect fit. "I don't do random dudes."

"But you probably do weak ass ones that can't even last a round with you," Logan shot back and Natasha bit her lower lip.

Damnit, he was right. The majority of the time, the guy came long before Natasha did, leaving her displeased and totally killing the mood. Her own knees grew weak at the thought of just how long the Wolverine could last. And the images in his head…good God! She could see the majority of the girls he's already fucked, how many hours he had them…

Logan glared at her pearly-white teeth, glaring at the plush flesh that those teeth were tugging on. He was fixated with her lips, the Wolverine demanding that they be the ones biting her lip, tasting her skin.

"Are you saying that I can't be gentle?" Natasha asked, staring at Logan so intensely that he almost yanked her out of that seat and took her to the bathroom to do just exactly what he'd been envisioning. He smirked at her.

"Just saying that you'd need someone who's a lot more durable," he said smoothly and listened to her heartbeat, smirking even more at its increase. "And trust me darlin', being gentle will be the last thing you'd want me to be with you." Logan took another drink, giving her a feral grin when she gulped.

Natasha was not nervous. Hell no! That was impossible! She never got nervous, never. It was impossible really. But here she was, palms sweaty and heart racing. No, she wasn't nervous. She was sex-deprived. Natasha calmed herself, still maintaining eye contact with Logan. She was simply sex-deprived and he knew it.

"Thanks, sweetie, but I'll pass," she said quietly with a frosty smile before standing, leaving a fifty dollar bill on the counter. She nodded to the bartender as she walked to the back. "Keep the change."

Logan chuckled to himself. She was nervous. He could smell it on her. Aroused and nervous with a hint of anger that made his blood boil. The thought of her angry and aroused sent a pang of hunger straight to his groin and her nervousness only fueled his amusement. And those damn clothes hid what he wanted to see, especially that fucking jacket.

He could always follow her. She went around back to the bathroom. He could find out what was underneath those clothes, feel those curves for himself. But then he felt the presence of a male behind him, putting the beast on edge.

"Hey, I think you owe me some money," the idiot behind him whispered even as his friend tried to pull him back and Logan could feel the claws beneath his skin itch to come out.

The redhead was going to have to wait.

**X**

Rogue had been taking too damn long. Natasha knew girls could take a minute when washing up, but it was going past thirty minutes and she was – despite what she'd tell others – worried. So, Natasha left the bar area on wobbly legs and made her way to the girls' restroom.

_Somebody please help_, Rogue thought weakly as Natasha touched the door. Natasha stopped right there and listened for more. There was a male in there and he was trying to touch Rogue…

_Dumb ass_, Natasha thought and swung the door open.

The man turned around quickly, but not quick enough. Natasha's fist slammed right into the left side of his face and he crashed to the floor. Rogue gasped, teary-eyed. She was only wearing jeans and a bra. Just as Natasha reached for her, the guy grabbed her ankle and yanked her down. Natasha toppled to the ground and scrambled to get up as he sat on her lower back, pinning her down.

"Looks like you want in on the action too, huh, sweetheart?" He exclaimed and pulled her arms behind her back roughly. Natasha glanced at Rogue's pale, fearful face and threw her head backward, breaking the guy's nose and he howled in pain, scrambling backwards. He clutched his nose, crying like a little bitch as she made her way to Rogue.

"Hey, kiddo," she whispered comfortingly. "You okay?" Natasha reached for Rogue and she snatched away from her, shielding herself with a black top.

"Don't," Rogue pleaded, whimpering. Natasha pretended as though that didn't hurt her. After all, she knew why Rogue acted this way. But it did hurt her a little.

"I already know, Rogue," Natasha told her gently and Rogue looked up at her, confused. "Your skin? I already know. I told you, I'm on your side." Rogue smiled at her a little and pulled her shirt over her head. Natasha stood, glancing back at that guy. When Rogue had on her coat and gloves, Natasha turned back to the crying man and glared.

"You bitch," he screamed at her. Natasha only smirked.

**X**

Logan chuckled to himself as he took a drink. Figures the dumb fucker would be mad. He came in the cage thinking that he'd beat Logan. Problem was…he couldn't handle Logan. No one could.

"No man takes a beating like that without a mark to show for it," the dude said, still going on about it. Logan inwardly rolled his eyes.

_You lost, buddy. Deal with it_, he thought. Wolverine asked if he wanted to handle this the good old-fashioned way. Logan didn't feel like it. Besides, the girl and her little friend were still here. For some reason, he didn't want to put on a scene for them to see.

But then the guy got way too close to Logan, whispering in his ear, "I know what you are." Logan turned to him, cigar posed for another hit.

"Careful, bub. Keep it up and you'll lose something else," Logan warned. The guy's friend pulled him away and Logan took a puff of his cigar, still tense. Seconds later, the guy pulled out a knife and Logan sprang into action.

Logan grabbed the man by the collar of his dingy plaid shirt and slammed him into the nearest wall, knocking the knife out of his hand. The guy gasped as his metallic claws came out of his knuckles, the middle one practically touching his throat as he gulped. Just as Logan was about to speak, he felt the barrel of a gun against the back of his head.

"Get outta my bar, freak," the bartender demanded and Logan glanced behind him momentarily.

The bartender was terrified and the shotgun was shaking in his hands. Logan glanced around him. The few people left were either clinging to each other or pressing themselves against the walls, hoping that he wouldn't turn on them. Growling, Logan turned.

He skillfully maneuvered so that while one clawed knuckle was pressing the first guy into the wall, the other sliced through the gun and pressed into the bartender's shirt. The bartender gasped and fearfully watched Logan's angry eyes.

"Anyone else?" Logan yelled.

Just like that, the guy from the bathroom flew through the bar, landing on the ground and sliding until he hit his head against the wall. Bits and pieces of wood scattered everywhere and part of the counter was destroyed. All eyes turned as Natasha and Rogue politely made their way through the wreckage. Natasha smirked.

"You should really invest in concrete or brick," she informed the bartender, mindful of the situation at hand. "Wood tends to break easily." Everyone stared at her, dumbfounded. Natasha was busy staring at Logan, who glared at her. "Calm down, Wolverine. It's time for us to go."

"Get the get outta here, darlin.'" He spoke roughly to her and Natasha could feel his anger radiating in the room. She could also hear the thoughts, see that one man knew there was a gun underneath the table. And she could feel her heart racing. Logan still referred to her with that term of endearment.

"Logan," she called and he really stared at her. Hazel eyes came back, the darkness of Wolverine disappearing into Logan's subconscious until he needed him. Logan didn't know when she found out his name, but he liked how it sounded coming from her mouth. Smooth and soft like it belonged. "That's enough."

Logan retracted the claws and glared at both men, snarling all the while. Natasha waited patiently and Rogue simply stared in awe. He was strong, she could tell, but somehow the redhead woman was able to calm him down and the two of them didn't know each other. It was rather…remarkable.

Logan roughly fixed his jacket and stormed past Natasha and Rogue, punching a nice hole into the wall for good measure. Natasha turned to the shell-shocked and afraid people, pulling a hundred dollar bill from her pocket. She placed the crumbled money on the part of the bar that remained intact.

"This should help with repair," she said kindly. The bartender just nodded dumbly and Natasha even had the nerve to give them a bright smile. "Have a nice day, lady and gentlemen." She pulled Rogue behind her, who waved on the way out.

"Bye!" The girl exclaimed as the door shut behind them.

**X**

"Seems like he was a sore loser," Natasha commented as she stepped behind Logan. He was bent over on the driver side, trying to fix the car. Natasha sighed. "It won't work. He broke your breaks and tore the connection to your gas." Logan leaned up, stared at her and then punched the steering wheel, denting it. Rogue flinched, grasping her hand.

"He's lucky I don't go in there and finish the job," Logan said gruffly and Natasha raised an eyebrow at him.

"And then what? Have the police on your ass when you don't even have a car to escape in?" She inquired and Logan glared at her. "Sounds really smart." Logan stood up straight, swinging his bag over his broad shoulder.

"Well, aren't you a little smart ass?" He sneered and Natasha laughed, placing her free hand on her hip.

"Of course I am," she proclaimed perkily. "I graduated at the top of my class at Cornell University and I'm still on top in law school and I'm not even there." Rogue was impressed. She faintly wondered what Natasha majored in, but that was for another time.

"Good for you," Logan grumbled and turned, beginning to walk away. Natasha frowned. It was snowing out here and it was crazy cold. The only warmth she truly felt was coming through Rogue's leather-clad hand.

"Oh, come on. It's like thirty-something degrees out here. And you're packin' a lot of metal in there, big guy." Logan ignored her and Natasha could not deny that that hurt a little. He kept walking. "At least let me give you a ride to the next town."

"I'll take my chances," Logan called back and kept walking, getting farther and farther away. He wasn't trying to be rude really. He just didn't trust himself in a car with her. That girl may be with them, but that wouldn't stop the onslaught of her scent that would probably be surrounding him.

"Fine," Natasha yelled and led Rogue to her black truck. "See if I care." Natasha knew that for some reason she did and Rogue could too. Luckily for her, the girl didn't point her out on that. The girl simply climbed into the passenger seat and Natasha into the driver's. She started the truck and began driving, passing Logan in minutes.

Rogue glanced behind them in the rear view mirror, feeling horrible. She didn't want to leave the guy in the middle of the snow like that. It was cold and she wouldn't have wanted someone to do that to her. So, she turned to Natasha.

"We can't leave him," Rogue said. Natasha glanced at her.

"He said no, kiddo. I can't help that," Natasha reminded her, but Rogue simply stared at her with huge, dark eyes that just begged for you to do whatever the girl asked. And Natasha – even though she wasn't staring at Rogue – fell victim to them. "Damnit, fine. But you talk to him."

Natasha pressed the brakes gently, slowing down enough until Logan was walking with the car. Rogue pulled her window down and smiled at Logan.

"Look, you can save the 'I'm big and bad' act for another day," Rogue told him and he glanced her way, surprised. For a second, he thought the girl was mute. "It's cold, you know it is, and I'm pretty sure that metal's probably already annoyin' ya. Just get in the car." Natasha watched him mull it over.

"As long as I get shotgun," Logan said, giving in. Rogue smiled brightly at that – a pretty smile both adults might add – and climbed into the backseat, buckling herself up. Natasha stopped the car and allowed Logan to climb in before taking off. He rubbed his hands together and Natasha turned on her heater. "Thanks."

"No problem," Natasha replied. Rogue removed her black leather gloves and started rubbing her hands. Logan glanced behind them.

"Hey, kid. You should probably put your hands up here," he told her and reached back to touch her, but Rogue quickly pulled back. "I won't hurt you, kid."

"It's not you," Rogue said quickly. "It's my skin. Whenever I touch someone, something bad happens to them. It's nothing personal. It's just…" She trailed off and Logan sat back in his seat in understanding.

"Mutation," both he and Natasha concluded. They shared a look before Natasha refocused on the road. Logan still stared at her, causing the fine hairs on the back of her neck to stand. Chuckling, Logan flexed his hands and Rogue watched, transfixed by the bruising on his knuckles.

"Do they hurt?" She asked and Logan watched where she was looking. "When they come out, do they hurt?" Logan flexed his hands again before sighing.

"Every time," he admitted and Natasha shot him a sympathetic look. Rogue smiled a little.

"I'm Rogue." Logan glanced back at her, to Natasha and then back to Rogue with a disbelieving stare.

"What the hell kinda name is Rogue?" Rogue shrugged.

"I don't know," she answered. "What kind of a name is Wolverine?" Natasha chuckled at the girl's retort, grinning at Logan. He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Great. Another smart ass," he muttered low enough so that only Natasha could hear and she giggled. "Name's Logan." Rogue nodded.

"I'm Marie." Both eyes turned to Natasha who felt the warmth pooling in her cheeks at the attention. She'd forgotten to introduce herself to Rogue.

"Natasha," she said. Logan noted the once clueless look on Rogue's face. She hadn't even known who the hell Natasha was. Now suppose, he wondered, if the woman turned out to be a murderer? Then what?

"You got in the car with someone and you didn't even know her name?" He exclaimed and Rogue blushed before smiling.

"You got in the car with a woman that threw a man into a wall and a girl that could kill you if you touch her. And you're only just finding out our names," Rogue pointed out and Logan bristled at the tone and the fact that she was right.

"Whatever," Logan muttered before lighting a cigar. The woodsy smell filled the car and finally, Natasha relaxed. She wasn't a smoker, but something about that cigar and Logan smoking it felt so…right. Rogue grinned.

"And weren't y'all just flirtin' with each other? You didn't know each other's names then either," Rogue continued and both adults froze. Natasha kept her eyes on the road, refusing to meet Logan's questioning gaze and ignoring her own racing her heart.

"You told her that?" He demanded.

"She didn't have to," Rogue said. "She's been tense ever since you got in the car and she's not meetin' your eyes. So, obviously somethin' happened in the bar when I went to the bathroom."

Natasha gaped into the rear view mirror, staring straight at Rogue. What the fuck? The Professor didn't say shit about this girl being like this. Logan chuckled at Natasha's expression and sucked briefly on the cigar before exhaling in her direction. She tensed when the smoke hit her and then exhaled deeply.

_I make her nervous, huh_, Logan thought to himself, tucking that information away for later. This ride might not be so bad after all. The cigar was helping drown out her mouth-watering scent. And this Marie was a nice distraction from Natasha gnawing on her lip. This might just be fun.

"Okay. Time for music," Natasha exclaimed and turned the radio on. Some random pop song – Brittney Spears as Rogue pointed out – started playing and Natasha left it alone. While she was not exactly in the mood for pop music, Rogue seemed to like it. And Logan's irritated expression was hilarious.

After five minutes, Rogue glanced at the two adults. Natasha seemed more relaxed now and Logan was slouched in the seat, obviously comfortable. He was smoking another cigar. Her eyes fell on the dog tags lying on his chest.

"Hey, are those from the army?" Rogue asked and Logan touched his dog tags.

"I don't know, kid," he replied.

Natasha glanced at him. He honestly didn't know and that was puzzling. She didn't mean to pry, but she could tell that Logan's mind was a puzzle all its own and it might require a long amount of time before it's ever fixed. His memories were a jumble. He wasn't even sure if Logan was really his name. Those dog tags were the only things that told him anything.

"You guys should probably put on your seatbelts," Rogue said and Logan turned around fully to her now.

"Now, look, kid. If we wanted back-seat driving, we would have –

Out of nowhere, a tree slammed onto the hood of the truck and Rogue let out a frightened scream.

Natasha gasped and swerved the car to the right, hoping to get out of the way. But a force knocked the truck even further to the right and before she knew it, the truck slammed into another fallen tree.

Natasha clung to the steering wheel, defying gravity as it tried to lift her out of her seat. Logan was thrown through the windshield, leaving her gaping. Maybe they should have listened to Rogue.

"Marie," Natasha called. She heard a soft moan before something was thrown somewhere. It was dark and hazy and the smoke from the battered engine filled the air. It was going to blow. That much Natasha was sure of.

"I'm fine," Rogue replied softly and Natasha didn't even try to hide the sigh of relief that escaped her. She glanced at an immobile Logan before stilling in fear.

_He_ was near. She could feel him, could hear his indiscernible thoughts. Natasha could feel every muscle in her body coiling and unbuckled herself slowly. She glanced around the car, looking at mirrors to see when he'd get here. He was close. That was all she could tell.

Logan slowly rose to his feet, cracking his neck on both sides for good measure. He stared at the truck to see both girls staring at him with wide eyes. His scars were healing, the skin slowly coming back together and he blinked the cut on his eyelid for good measure.

"You girls o –

Before he could even finish his sentence, something grabbed him from behind and swung him further backwards. Logan crashed heavily into the snow with a groan and looked up to see a huge, hairy man. Beady black eyes stared back at him and the man snarled viciously like an animal, flexing out clawed fingers.

"Sabretooth," he heard Natasha breathe and for some reason, Wolverine didn't like that and Logan found himself snarling at the creature. Sabretooth even had the audacity to smirk and Logan released his own claws. But as soon as Sabretooth took a step towards him, a gunshot went off.

Sabretooth turned around to see Natasha poised with a gun, staring directly at him. Growling, he started towards her and Logan growled protectively. Logan lunged at Sabretooth, claws ready to stab the beast in its back. But Sabretooth swung a hand back and Logan was sent flying into a tree.

Natasha continued to fire at Sabretooth, taking steps back as he approached her. Sabretooth was one of the only people she couldn't fight. Ferals were different than normal people, especially those that succumbed fully to the beast inside of them. She couldn't overpower them and for ones like Sabretooth, she couldn't read their minds.

With a roar, Sabretooth lunged at her and Natasha gasped as her gun was knocked away. Sabretooth wrapped a hand around her throat and slammed her against the car. Rogue screamed inside the car while Natasha gasped for air, feet kicking as Sabretooth lifted her. He brought her face to his and roared.

"Mine," he growled and Natasha's blood chilled. She gripped his wrists and tried to pry his hands off of her. But his grip tightened considerably, claws digging into her throat.

Logan rose to his feet and glared at the pair. Wolverine thrashed violently in his cage and Logan released him, letting out a vicious roar.

_**Mine**_, Wolverine growled in his head viciously and Logan couldn't help but agree.

"Put her down, bub, before things get ugly," Logan growled and Sabretooth stared at him impassively, still pinning Natasha to the vehicle. Then, with a roar, he let her drop to the ground. Natasha coughed and gasped for air, watching Sabretooth attack Logan.

Logan shoved his claws into the beast's stomach, earning a loud roar in pain, and Sabretooth grabbed him by the forearms. Slowly, Sabretooth lifted Logan, extracting the man's claws from him. Snarling, Sabretooth swung Logan and Logan went flying into the car. Rogue screamed as Logan slammed onto the windshield before sliding onto the hood of the car, unconscious.

Sabretooth smirked at her and Natasha could feel all of her anger and frustration moving to her muscles. With a yell, she forced all of her strength to her hands and Sabretooth was sent flying by the force of her telekinesis. She pushed until he slammed through the forest and out of sight. Exhausted, Natasha was just about to fall when strong arms wrapped themselves around her waist.

"I've got you," a familiar male voice whispered in her ear and she leaned heavily onto Scott Summers.

"Logan," she whispered. "Get Logan." Scott released her and grabbed the man off the car, struggling to even lift him onto his feet. She glanced to her left to see her old friend's silky white hair and that familiar bright smile. "You're late, Storm." Storm grinned at her, helping Rogue out of the car.

"Fashionably late," the woman joked, stretching out her hand to Natasha. "But, judging by what you just did, I'm pretty sure you were doing just fine." Natasha rolled her eyes and took Storm's hand.

"Smart ass." Natasha rolled her eyes as Storm chuckled at her. "Just take me home."

Just as they were lifted into the black jet on their left, the vehicle exploded, leaving a cloud of darkness and smoke behind them.


	3. Chapter 3

Hi, everyone. Just wanted to put this little disclaimer out there. X-Men do not belong to me. However, Natasha Greshnev in all of her gorgeous spunkiness belongs to me. Hope you like her.

Summary: From the time she was ten, Natasha Greshnev was a tough cookie to crack and grew up to be a sarcastic, cold assassin with a hidden mutation. But when Professor X calls her back to the mansion, Natasha finds herself growing fond of a new mutant that reminds her of her, dangerously attracted to the infamous Wolverine and thrown into the war looming ahead against Magneto. It's been a long time, but can Natasha still fit the X-Men suit? Or has her heart become too tainted with the blood she's shed?

So…um…I am not a huge fan of Jean Grey, but because I know my character's relationship to Jean, I can't exactly bash her as much. So, I hope that when I write about her, no one hates her.

I used to like her, even adore her…once upon a time.

**Bold – **Professor in people's heads.

_**Bold Italics – **_Natasha in people's heads

**Bold Underlined – **Jean in people's heads

_Italics _– Normal people thoughts

Lost

Jean Grey sighed in exhaustion as the metal doors closed behind her. She had a science test to administer today, to teach a seminar about chemistry, oversaw a training session in the danger room, and spent an entire hour trying to contact Senator Kelly, who hasn't been seen in the last few days.

To say she was an exhausted was an understatement.

Jean swiped a stray strand of ruby-red hair that fell from her bun from her face and stared down at the handsome stranger Natasha brought with her. Thinking about her sister, Jean frowned. Natasha hadn't even called for three months and just randomly showed up with more than the person the Professor asked her to bring. _Always the rebellious one_, Jean thought as she shook her head.

But Natasha did bring back a looker. Jean hardly looked at other males since she began dating Scott two years ago, but this Logan was…he was definitely something.

Jean moved the needle with her mind, grasping it when the needle was in proximity. Smiling, she felt Logan's muscled arm for a vein. Once she felt one beneath the very warm skin, Jean gently stuck the pointy object into him, sliding the needle in slowly –

Logan's other hand shot out and wrapped itself around her throat. He let out a roar as he leapt off the table behind her, tightening his grip on her throat and pulling her flush against him. Jean couldn't breathe, but something told her to attempt to relax against Logan.

Wolverine sniffed the air and snarled. He hated hospitals and labs just brought a bad memory. This place was foreign and it set Wolverine on edge. And this woman was not his mate. Wolverine took another whiff and relaxed his hold on her body, but not her throat. She did smell somewhat like his mate, like vanilla. But other than that, there was nothing.

Logan could feel her throat constricting beneath his hand and felt bad momentarily. She wasn't posing as a threat. Besides, she wasn't his main concern. He needed out of this place and to have Natasha and Marie with him. Now.

Jean fell to the floor in a heap of flesh and red hair, gasping heavily for air and coughing as Logan walked out of the lab. If he had held on any longer, Jean would have lost all breath. And she was so close to going behind him and giving him a piece of her mind when the Professor popped into her brain.

**Patience, Jean**, he told her mentally and she sighed, pushing herself on her feet. **He's lost. Let him find what he's looking for.**

_Which is? _Jean inquired and the Professor chuckled in her head.

**Your sister**, he replied.

**X**

Logan whirled around in the white hallway, not trusting anything but his instincts. There was a door with a huge X on it, but he didn't think that was the exit.

**No. Not that way**.

Logan looked all around him, on edge at the voice that entered his head. It was a calming voice…or was meant to be calm. But all it did was make Logan anxious and suspicious. So, in response, Logan slammed his back into the wall, peering around the corner.

He didn't smell anyone or see anyone. Growling loosely, Logan's head snapped to the right as a drawer opened, revealing sweat pants and a t-shirt. Glancing around him, he yanked the rest of the patches from the lab off of his body and yanked the clothing on. Hurrying back to the corner, Logan glanced out to see a door open.

Cursing in his head, he rushed down the hall quickly, glancing back occasionally to make sure there was no one there. Leaning against a wall, Logan gasped as it opened behind him to reveal an elevator.

_**Don't worry, Wolvie. It's safe**_, the familiar and calming voice whispered in his head and Logan obediently – but still cautiously – entered. The button to the next floor going up was pushed suddenly and Logan was left staring as the elevator door slid to a close.

As Logan stepped out of the elevator, the school bell rang loudly, startling his sensitive ears. He faintly heard a familiar giggle and a corny joke about puppies, which made him growl. Quickly, he slid behind a wall as a group of kids emerged from the staircase.

_**This way, Logan**_, the sweet voice beckoned and Logan hurried towards the nearest door just as another one was about to be opened. Acting quickly, he turned the knob and threw himself into the room, surprising himself when he came face-to-face with a small group of kids. And this bald dude in a wheelchair.

And a grinning Natasha.

"You found me," she exclaimed and the kids snickered. Logan stared at her only, anxiousness and mistrust slowly melting away by her calming presence. And come on, the girl was exceptionally gorgeous right now.

Natasha wore a dark purple camisole that accented her impressive bust and slim waist. A sliver of smooth tummy was seen before Logan's eyes fell on a light, flowy bohemian skirt that sat low on her hips, revealing the top of what appeared to be a tattoo. The skirt was quad-colored, ranging between dark blues and even darker purples. Accents of silver sequin shimmered in the sunlight from the window onto the skirt. She had some sheer material of the same colors around her arms and sandals on her feet.

Under the beaming sunlight, Natasha's fair skin seemed softer and radiant. Her eyes were deeper, framed by dark lashes. She was practically glowing and her pouty, tempting lips glistened in the light. To say Logan was entranced was the biggest understatement of the year.

"Alright, children," Professor X started, glancing between the other two adults with a knowing smirk. "Get to class. We'll finish our discussion tomorrow." The kids hurried out. The girls took a little longer, staring at Logan before bursting into a fit of giggles when he glanced at them.

"Where is she?" Logan demanded, looking right at Natasha.

"In a classroom. Being normal," she replied with a smile. "She's fine." Logan visibly relaxed and Natasha hid a smile. He was already attached to Marie, just like she was.

"Where the hell are we?" Natasha quietly flicked her gaze to the Professor, who leaned back in his wheelchair.

"You are at Xavier's School for Gifted Children, home to what the children affectionately call the X-Men," Charles Xavier exclaimed, staring up at the intimidatingly infamous Wolverine. Professor momentarily glanced at the door, hearing the thoughts of his team members and smiled. "And here comes our team."

Storm walked through the doors first, stark-white hair blowing behind her as she stepped. She smiled at Logan softly, brown eyes softening before she winked at Natasha and perched herself on one of the small tables. Scott followed in his normal stoic way, nodding to Logan before standing in front of the door to wait for his girlfriend. He only glanced at Natasha, but she smirked in return.

"This is Storm and Cyclops," Professor X introduced and Logan glanced at both nonchalantly. "They were the ones that rescued you. " Jean came in soon after, brushing past Scott with an affectionate smile. Logan really felt bad when he noticed a small bruise forming on her throat, but she only smiled at him before standing beside Natasha.

And while both women were exceptionally gorgeous, he could immediately tell who the youngest was.

"I'm sure you've met Jean," the Professor observed and Jean smirked sheepishly while Natasha fought back a giggle which got cut off when Jean elbowed her. "And we're all aware that you know Natasha." Logan and Natasha exchanged a smirk to each other, which did not go unnoticed by Jean and Storm. Scott simply didn't care. He just wanted to know how the hell Jean got bruised. "You're safe here."

Logan scoffed to himself. Safe? When wasn't he safe? Logan could damn sure take care of himself. Sure, that Sabretooth guy caught him by surprise. Once. That was it.

"So, let me get this straight? You run a school for mutant kids? And what, parents just willingly send their kids here?" Logan inquired, tone sarcastic and skeptical.

"Yes, actually," Professor X replied. "This is a chance for the children to have a somewhat normal life with kids just like them. And to one day be able to enter the adult world or stay and become our X-Men." Logan actually chuckled.

"You do know that this is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard., right? X-Men. Ha!" Logan gave a small laugh before glancing at the team. "And these codenames…Storm right?" Storm nodded, biting her lip to hold back a giggle. The nicknames were kinda absurd, but fitting. He smirked at Xavier. "And what do they call you? Wheels?" He glanced at Jean and Natasha, who couldn't help but giggle.

"I don't have one," Jean replied to his stare. Natasha raised an eyebrow.

"Do we really need to go there?" She shot back and Logan wasn't about to go there with her. At least…not right now. Logan chuckled again and turned around to face the door. He stared up at Scott, who wasn't that taller than him.

"Cyclops, right?" Scott just stared down at the more muscular man, not fazed. "Wanna move outta my way?" Natasha clutched the window's curtain, tense. She did not like where that was going. Scooter would always be a boy scout in her mind, but he wasn't some pansy ass. Scott could kick some ass when he wanted to.

"Are you going to make me?" Scott retorted and Logan had to give the stiff-ass some credit. He had balls, that was for sure. Jean visibly flinched when Logan grabbed Scott roughly by his collar and pulled the guy closer, actually lifting Scott off his feet a little.

"Wanna find out?" Logan growled and Scott tilted his head to the side, staring directly at Natasha. She could tell he was raising an eyebrow at her.

_Wanna come control your dog, Tasha_, Scott thought inquiringly and Natasha mentally chuckled.

_**Why? Afraid his bite's bigger than yours**_, she shot back and Scott scoffed. The Professor interrupted them with a small cough.

**Now is not the time for your teasing, Natasha. I'm afraid that while I am the only one other than you in this room that Logan will listen to, you are the only that can calm him down, **the Professor pointed out and Jean hummed in agreement. Taking a step forward, Natasha bit her lip.

_**Being angry and aggressive doesn't change anything, Logan. You're still lost**_, she started in his head, not sure if she was going in the right direction. But then he turned around, glaring at her.

"Get outta my mind, woman. You don't know shit," he snarled and Natasha stopped herself from flinching, trying to remain calm and somewhat neutral. She took a few more cautious steps, knowing that Wolverine was on edge. He wouldn't hurt her, but that didn't stop her heart from racing.

_**You're right. I don't know anything**_, Natasha relented, hoping that would calm Logan down somewhat and make him listen to her. He did. _**But you don't either. Your mind is a box that even you can't open with all of your brute strength. You're always questioning why…or who…and sometimes even what. You don't even know how the hell you got that metal inside of you. **_

Jean watched the interaction, listening to what Natasha was saying and noting Logan's reaction. She was surprised, to say the least, that Natasha was this observant about him. She was faintly wondering what this Logan meant to her sister. Natasha had few soft spots and they ranged from her to kids and sometimes the Professor. But somehow, Logan snuck his way into that category.

_**I know I run away from here a lot and that has nothing to do with anyone here. But the one thing I do know is that I always come back. And it's not just because of my sister. In a way, I'm…**_Natasha didn't know if she wanted to be this open with Logan, but seeing his hazel eyes soften at her, the words came out. _**I'm just as lost as you are, just in a different sense. And this is the only place I know to be home.**_

"And…I know for a fact that above anyone else, you can trust the Professor," Natasha promised him quietly. Logan stared into those gorgeous, mesmerizing green eyes, lost in a sea of emerald. "And you can trust me."

Logan didn't trust a lot of people. And he damn sure didn't trust this Professor guy. But he knew one thing for sure. He trusted her.

"I do," he said softly and Natasha gave him the prettiest smile he'd ever seen.

**X**

"So, am I the only one that wants to talk about what happened in that room?" Storm said as the trio stepped into one of the parlor rooms. Jean sat on one of the sofas, pulling her feet under her body comfortably. Scott made his way over to the cabinet.

"What? That the Professor is in out of his mind for letting that brute stay here?" Scott inquired, already pissed. Who the hell did that Logan prick think he was grabbing Scott like that? The only reason Scott didn't fry his ass was because of the Professor.

He prided himself on having control, but Logan…Logan really tested that. Storm chuckled at Scott as he poured scotch into three glasses.

"You've seriously let this Alpha thing you got going on get to your head," Storm pointed out with a smirk as he handed her her cup.

"And you've seriously been hanging with Natasha for far too long," he retorted. Jean smiled as Scott sat beside her, handing her a cup and wrapping an arm around her.

"But seriously. Am I the only one who noticed what happened?" Storm asked again, staring right at Jean. This was the girl's sister. She had to have noticed.

"That Natasha has a soft spot for Logan? Yes, I noticed," Jean said, chuckling. "I think we all noticed it."

"Don't you think you should to talk her about that?" Storm inquired, sipping the liquor. Jean shrugged, staring down at the golden liquid.

"Natasha hasn't talked to me in the last three months and she's been avoiding me ever since she came home." Scott chuckled to himself.

"Isn't she always avoiding you when she comes home?" Storm laughed and Jean couldn't help but smile at him.

"She didn't come to Dad's funeral and she thinks I'm angry with her," she replied softly before frowning and staring back into the liquid. "She was right when she told Logan that she was lost…just like him. And she buries herself in her work so much that…" Jean trailed off, thinking about her sister's "work." _If you could call being an assassin work_, she thought to herself. "That I'm afraid she still hasn't found who she really is."

Storm sighed. She knew that despite how many times Jean has probably chastised Natasha or antagonized the girl, she loved her little sister. They were all they had ever had and were always close. She hated seeing Natasha push Jean away.

"Well, we better get going. I have a class in fifteen minutes."

**X**

"I'm not liking this," Natasha whispered to Logan.

While giving Logan a tour with the Professor, Natasha stopped outside of the biology class that Storm was teaching. Marie was seated somewhat in the back, doing work with one of Natasha's favorites, Jubilee. Suddenly, without warning, Bobby Drake started talking to Marie, making the girl blush. And then John made her blush more.

"Neither am I," Logan replied, glaring at the two boys as they secretly tried to win Marie's attention. He wanted to talk into that room and push Marie as far away from those boys as possible. She was young. She didn't need some boys vying for her affection. "She's only a kid."

"On the contrary, Logan, she's fifteen," the Professor decided to point out, amused. They were acting like a married couple witnessing their daughter gain a boy's attention for the first time. Logan was the over-protective father and Natasha was the cautious mother. Both Logan and Natasha glared at him over their shoulders simultaneously.

"She's still a kid," they both said and turned back to see John create some fire. Bobby slowly turned it into ice before morphing it into a rose. He presented it to Marie, who blushed even more. Even Natasha had to admit that that was cute.

"Welcome to Mutant High, Rogue," Logan heard the kid say before somehow, the ice sculpture fell to the floor and Bobby snapped back into his seat properly as Storm turned around. As Storm reprimanded the kid, Logan glanced at Natasha, who was trying to keep a straight face.

"Did you do that?" Logan asked and Natasha grinned, eyes twinkling with mirth and mischief.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Wolvie," she replied and pushed herself away from the door, walking back behind the Professor to push his wheelchair. Logan followed suit, chuckling.

"You're going to stop calling me Wolvie," he told her and Natasha raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

"Or what?" She inquired, daring him to try anything. Logan stared down into those gorgeous eyes, his own promising things only he could do behind closed doors.

"Or we'll never finish this tour because of your constant flirting," Professor X said and Natasha blushed, looking away from Logan.

Fifteen minutes into the tour of downstairs, the Professor felt an old presence. He glanced at Natasha, who obviously didn't notice. She was too busy telling Logan about Hank and the Black Bird. But the Professor knew what he felt and coughed to interrupt them.

"I'm afraid, dear, that an old friend is requesting your presence," he told her and Natasha stared into blue eyes curiously.

**It seems your favorite teacher is in town. He wishes to discuss something with you**, Professor X said mentally and Natasha didn't argue with him. She turned to Logan with a soft smile.

"Looks like I have another mission," she told him and then smirked. "But…if you behave, I might just bring you back a beer." Logan chuckled. She already knew him well

"I might just do that, darlin,'" he replied and she grinned, walking away.

"We'll see."

Natasha made her way to the garage, pulling on an old leather jacket of Scott's. Grabbing keys to a nice Jaguar, she was just about to unlock the car when Jean came into the garage.

"Where are you going?" Jean asked and Natasha rolled her eyes.

"Out," was her reply as she sat in the car. Jean stepped to the driver's side door as her sister pulled down the window. Long red hair cascaded over her shoulder as she leaned down. Natasha could feel Jean trying to pry into her mind and pushed her out roughly. Natasha tried to ignore Jean's hurt look as much as possible, but found herself speaking. "I'm not…trying to push you away, Jeanie. I…just can't…live up to your expectations."

"I'm not expecting anything from you other than for you to still be my sister at the end of the day," Jean told her, clutching the window to stop Natasha from rolling it up and closing her out. All Jean ever wanted was for Natasha find her own happiness and purpose.

"Stop lying," Natasha snapped and Jean flinched. "You're expecting me to come back and become an X-Men like you. And Jean…" Natasha actually turned to her big sister with teary eyes, surprising Jean and causing a lump of emotion to form in her throat. "What if I'm not meant to play the good guy role?"

Jean smiled sadly, wiping a stubborn tear from Natasha's cheek when it fell. It was rare when Natasha showed her an inkling of emotion like this. To see her sister still struggling with something that Magneto made her question years ago hurt and Jean didn't know if she could make Natasha see the light.

"Then…at the end of the day, you'll still be my sister and I will always love you," Jean promised and Natasha stared at her, shocked. "You're still lost, Tasha, and I'll wait as long as you want me to until you find yourself. Just know that this is home. Home is where the heart is." Natasha smiled softly, starting the engine.

"I know," she replied. "I'll be back. I promise." Jean grinned.

"Of course you will. You will always come back to me," she said and Natasha felt like she needed to get the hell outta here before she really started bawling. And that wasn't exactly an attractive sight. But she smiled even brighter at her sister anyway.

"Because my heart is always with you."

**X**

"I didn't think you'd come," he said as she slid into the booth. Natasha clasped her hands together, staring at the man expressionlessly. They were seated in a classy café in Rochester, New York, only fifteen minutes east of the mansion.

"I didn't either," she admitted before staring into light blue eyes. "What do you want, Magneto?" Erik Leshnerr chuckled, grinning at her formal tone and tense shoulders. Natasha was always ready for battle. That was one of the things he loved about her.

"Come now, child. We're past this icy stage, don't you think?" Natasha rolled her eyes and she shook her head at the waitress who was bringing over a pot of coffee.

"Alright, Erik," she said sharply. "What do you want?" Erik had to grin. Ever still the firecracker, he mused.

"This is why I've always favored you, Natasha. Jean was exceptionally strong as a child and grew to be this outstanding woman. But you…I think you've lived in your sister's shadow for far too long." Natasha raised an eyebrow, daring him to continue. "You have a fire about you that is admirable and strength that most work all their lives to acquire. You're sharp and cunning and one of the most intelligent people I know."

Natasha scoffed. Erik was playing his infamous game with her, goading. It was a trick she learned he used solely with her. Before, when he was trustworthy, it worked. Hell, he almost goaded her into joining his brigade years ago.

"Flattery will get you nowhere with me. You of all people should know that, Erik," she reminded him and Erik sipped his coffee, still smirking. God, Natasha had spent too much damn time with him. He smirked almost as much as she did. "Did you know that Senator Kelly went missing the other day?"

"I'm sorry to hear that," Erik said sincerely. "It would be a shame if anything horrible were to befall him." Natasha narrowed her eyes at the old man. The fucker knew something. There was no way in hell that he didn't. She knew that twinkle in his eyes well.

"I wouldn't be surprised if you had anything to do with it," Natasha said. "After all, all you have to do is snap your wrinkled fingers and your little pet does everything you ask on her knees." An attractive, curvy blonde plops herself beside Erik, smirking at Natasha.

"Ouch," she said and Natasha grinned.

"Stop pouting, Raven. It's not attractive in a woman your age," Natasha commented and the older woman bristled, golden eyes glowing. Erik smirked at her, leaning over slightly.

"If I were up to something, dear, you'd know it," Erik promised and Natasha stared at him impassively.

"Then what are you up to, Erik?" She inquired and he chuckled. The girl knew him well.

"You'll know in due time," he swore and Natasha rolled her eyes. This was going nowhere fast. "Just know that my offer still stands." Natasha scoffed.

"Not interested in stealing your affection from your favorite little pet," she said, giving Raven a disgusted look. "And if we're done, I have somewhere I need to be." Natasha stood and was about to walk away, but Raven hurriedly stood in her way, standing directly at her height.

The two women always had it out for each other, especially considering that Natasha knew Raven was insecure about her. Erik and Xavier worked together closely for years and Raven had always been with him. But Natasha, at such a young age, captured his attention and affection. He treated her like a daughter, just like Xavier, and Raven never forgot that.

"Mystique, you wanna move out of my way?" Natasha hissed and the older woman moved aside, smirking all the while. Natasha walked past her and was at the door when she turned to both adults, who were still smirking at her. _Freaks_, she thought, but didn't voice that. Instead, she remarked, "And FYI, you both should stop smirking. Your wrinkles are showing."

With that said, Natasha slammed the door behind her.


	4. Chapter 4

Hi, everyone. Just wanted to put this little disclaimer out there. X-Men do not belong to me. However, Natasha Greshnev in all of her gorgeous spunkiness belongs to me. Hope you like her.

Summary: From the time she was ten, Natasha Greshnev was a tough cookie to crack and grew up to be a sarcastic, cold assassin with a hidden mutation. But when Professor X calls her back to the mansion, Natasha finds herself growing fond of a new mutant that reminds her of her, dangerously attracted to the infamous Wolverine and thrown into the war looming ahead against Magneto. It's been a long time, but can Natasha still fit the X-Men suit? Or has her heart become too tainted with the blood she's shed?

**Bold – **Professor in people's heads or Wolverine.

_**Bold Italics – **_Natasha in people's heads

**Bold Underlined – **Jean in people's heads

_Italics _– Normal people thoughts or memory

**Touch Me, I'm Gonna Scream**

Natasha sighed as she entered the now alive mansion, greeted by the sound of kids playing games in one of the living rooms and running around the mansion. She winked at Rogue, who was actually playing pool with two girls, Bobby and John. She nodded to a few of the oldest boys briefly, some of which who were graduating this year, and gripped the bag in hers tightly. Turning the corner, she saw Scott.

"Hey, handsome," she purred just to see his shoulders tense up.

Even though Scott was always tense.

"Tasha," he replied coolly and Natasha smirked, stopping before the tall male. His six-foot-two frame towered over her and when she was younger and mad crushed out for him, that height and his slim, well-muscled body did wonders for her fantasies. Now, she couldn't help but compare him to a certain growly, thick-muscled male that was lurking the halls somewhere.

"What's wrong, Scotty-poo?" She cooed and she could feel Scott glaring at her through his visors.

"First of all, these nicknames of yours have gotta stop," he admonished and she chuckled dryly. "And for your information, nothing's wrong." Natasha raised an eyebrow.

"So, you naturally stand like you've got something stuck up your ass?" Scott turned to her fully now, arms folded.

_Fuck you_, Scott thought vehemently. Natasha laughed aloud.

_**Didn't we already do that**_, Natasha reminded him and just like that, Scott tensed up even more and Natasha could see his Adam's apple move as he gulped at the memory.

"Don't tell me that that still makes you nervous, Scotty?" Scott didn't reply and Natasha took a step forward, not expecting him to stand still.

After all, Scott had an appearance to keep up. He was the fearless leader of the X-men. What did he look like backing down from his girlfriend's younger sister?

_A very smart man_, his mind griped.

"After all, it was only one night," Natasha reminded him with a mischievous grin and even reached her hand up to cup his chin, but he smacked her hands away.

"A night we swore not to talk about," he snapped and Natasha's smirk grew.

"Right. Because you didn't want to hurt Jean's feelings." Scott inhaled sharply as Natasha almost pressed her curvy body against his. It wasn't that he still wanted her as badly as he had that night, but it also wasn't like he still couldn't acknowledge that she only became even more gorgeous over the years.

He'd be a fucking idiot if he couldn't see that.

"What was it that you were protecting her from, Scott? The fact that we did it or the fact that you enjoyed it? Or…was it the fact that you wanted it long before we got drunk?" Natasha was close, like crazy close. It was uncomfortable and when he gulped again, Natasha was full out grinning. "Because Jean knew long before you told her and long before you two admitted you wanted to be together."

Speaking of Jean, she just turned the corner to see her boyfriend about to practically piss his pants while her sister was pretty much antagonizing him. With a knowing chuckle, Jean continued her path to them.

"Nat, you're back," Jean exclaimed and Natasha rolled her eyes, knowing full well her sister knew what the hell was going on. Winking at Scott just to see him get even more nervous, she turned.

"Yeah, Erik didn't want much. And Raven sends all of her love," Natasha replied sarcastically as Jean embraced her with one arm. As the sisters were close, Jean made sure her lips were close to her sister's ear.

"Stop teasing my boyfriend," Jean whispered and Natasha grinned.

"Tell him to stop looking like a dear in headlights when I enter a room." They both smirked at each other as they pulled away and then faced Scott.

"Jean, how was your meeting with the Professor?" Scott asked readily as his girlfriend tucked herself under his arm.

Finally, some fucking protection.

"Pretty good, love," she purred and kissed him lingeringly, causing Natasha to gag.

"Yeah, just got boring. Real quick." Natasha dangled her little bag, which held a six-pack of beer in front of them. "I got better things to do."

"Yeah, Logan," Scott muttered and Natasha gave him a look as she walked down the hall, swearing to God that he was not trying to watch the sway of her hips. Jean smirked knowingly as she stood in the way of Natasha's retreating form.

"You know, you're gonna have to stop letting her get to you," she told him and Scott smiled sheepishly. "It's crazy she still has that kind of power over you after three years." Scott cupped her face, pulling Jean closer to him.

"You know you have nothing to worry about when it comes to my relationship with Natasha." Jean smiled warmly at his promise and leaned up to kiss him softly, lingering on his lips afterwards.

"Oh, I know. Besides, it's not you I'm worried about when it comes to my sister. It's Logan."

"_This will be your room for as long as you want," Jean told Logan as they entered the bedroom. He smirked at her formal tone, not even hiding the fact that he'd been eyeing her ass when she turned around. Jean bristled when she noticed Logan's hazel eyes. "See something you like?"_

_Logan raised an eyebrow at that. So, the doc wasn't so frigid? It wasn't as surprising. After all, her sister couldn't have been the only one with a smart mouth in the family._

"_Well…" Logan trailed off as his eyes ran up Jean's lithe body, impressed. Jean was definitely something to look at. _**But mate is better**, _Wolverine reminded him and Logan inwardly rolled his eyes. Fucking prick was obsessed with the girl. Logan finally noticed the bruise on her neck deepening and immediately felt bad. "Sorry about earlier, by the way. My mind was kinda out of it."_

"_I bet," she replied with a small chuckle, recalling how they had to allow him to find Natasha before they could confront him. Logan turned to her a questioning gaze._

"_And what the hell was that supposed to mean?" Jean sighed, knowing she probably just tested him. _

"_That I'm a telepath," she said. "I can read your mind and something tells me that wasn't the first time you've been out of it." She even put emphasis on the "out of it" portion of her statement and Logan didn't truly want to admit that she was right. Who the fuck did this woman think she was? She didn't know shit._

**We weren't saying this when mate was saying these things**_, Wolverine griped and Logan really wished there was a way he could punch himself without looking like a fucking idiot._

Fuck up. And stop calling her that. She's not our fucking mate_, Logan retorted and Wolverine chuckled darkly, reminding Logan of the images of them fucking the living daylights out of Natasha, of them kissing and holding her._

**You were saying**_. Logan didn't reply. Instead, he gave Jean a quirky smirk, one that reminded her so much of Natasha that it was freaky._

"_Well, since you know so much, why don't you go ahead and read my mind?" The suggestive look in his eyes made Jean blush, causing the little freckles on her face to come out more. And that was actually a cute sight to Logan and that said something._

_Logan fucking hated freckles._

"_I'd rather not," Jean replied quietly, feeling herself become shy for some odd reason. The last time she felt like this was when Scott had first told her she was the most gorgeous woman in his life and that he planned on marrying her someday. And that was what? Five years ago? _

_Besides, she recalled hearing Natasha speak in his head about his mind, about the past he couldn't – for some reason – remember. She wasn't as strong as the professor. If his thoughts and memories were as jacked up as Natasha said, Jean didn't even want to try to pry into that head. _

_Even though curiosity was eating the fucking out of her conscience._

"_Is that your only power?" Logan was definitely interested. He had heard about Natasha's telekinesis; found out by that scheming witch girl that Tasha had telekinetically pushed Sabretooth with just her emotions. He didn't even want to think about what that girl could do when she was concentrated._

"_I can move things with my mind," Jean explained, going ahead and placing Logan's old clothes on the neatly made bed. She was even faintly wondering if it was a good idea that Natasha's bedroom was just two doors down. Logan grinned and butterflies threw a bitch fit in her stomach. _

_God, where was Scott when you needed him?_

_Fuck that._

_Where was Natasha? She was the one Logan really wanted._

"_What kind of things?" Logan inquired and Jean blushed, recalling Scott asking the same question when they first started dating. Back then, her powers still weren't at a good capacity and he'd only been curious. But she showed him what she could move and she didn't even need to use her powers._

_Without warning, the closet door and the bathroom door shut at the same time. Logan raised an eyebrow, impressed, and turned his eyes back to meet her playful ones._

"_All kinds of things," Jean told him sultrily and Logan couldn't help but smirk. Maybe Red was fun. Scooter probably kept all of that to himself, he mused. Then Jean walked up to him and for a second, Logan thought she was coming on to him. "Speaking of moving things, I may not be as strong as the Professor, but I think I'm capable of moving two-hundred pounds of muscle and metal."_

"_Meaning what? I'm supposed to be scared?" Logan teased and Jean smirked before narrowing her eyes. Logan groaned, feeling pressure on his temples. While his body healed the attack every time, it seemed like there was a new wave of pain._

"_It means that my sister isn't one of your little one-night-stands, Logan," Jean snapped and Logan fell to his knees, groaning. "You flirt with me because you know it gets under Scott's skin. Her…that's a different story and I won't presume to get in between you two. But, trust and believe." Jean leaned down to the man and whispered into his ear, "Hurt my sister. And I'll show you why they say to never fuck with redheads." Jean released his mind as she straightened and Logan let out a sigh of relief._

"_Didn't think she was capable of getting hurt," he wheezed as Jean walked to the door. She turned to him and for that moment, Logan saw complete sadness and realized something._

_Natasha was definitely a puzzle. She could be playful and hardcore and seductive. But the girl had serious baggage._

_And he wasn't sure if he ever could hurt her._

_Because Jean gave him a look of pure sadness and pain, her eyes telling him a story of heartbreak for the girl that would probably never tell him that story._

"_You have no idea how wrong you are," Jean told him and walked out, closing the doors behind her._

**X**

"Damn," was all Natasha could get out as she stepped into the Danger Room. She almost dropped the six-pack at the sight, mouth going dry.

Logan was standing in the middle of the room wearing only those low-slung jeans of his that teased with the big V that led down to the probably gorgeous package underneath. Sure, Natasha had seen all of this before and practically drooled over it again. But she knew she'd react the same way each and every time she saw Logan's ripped body.

When they had been at the bar, Logan must have dried himself off because he hadn't been sweating. But, baby, now he was and good God! Whoever invented sweat was a fucking genius! Those muscles looked even sexier – if that was fucking possible – and the way those jeans hung on his hips made her heart race.

Logan had just been picking up his shirt when he smelled her coming, felt his entire body relax against his will at her presence. One whiff and he could feel Wolverine purring like a fucking bitch over her. Weren't wolves supposed to be a part of the dog family?

"See something you like, darlin?'" He teased when Natasha just stared at him, green eyes piercing him with the spark of lust. And Wolverine wanted so bad to respond to that lust. Natasha straightened herself almost immediately and closed the doors behind her.

"I guess," she joked and Logan smirked at her as she walked over to one of the doors to the locker room next door. There was a bench right outside and she placed the pack on it first before removing her leather jacket. She was still wearing what she had on earlier. "So, I hear that you worked out those poor kids an hour ago?"

"Yeah. Their training sucks. They have no technique," Logan spat, recalling how they couldn't even manage good teamwork skills. And this was the future of X-Men! What a fucking joke! Natasha grinned, removing her bracelets and placing them with her jacket.

"Well then, why don't you teach me a few things?" Warning signs went off in Logan's head and for once, he wanted to deviate from something. Him and Natasha alone in a room, both of them sweaty. He'd be stuck with her scent and her sweat and he didn't want to think about her groaning against him.

"You sure you don't wanna change, darlin?' I'd hate to accidentally rip that skirt," Logan said huskily, eyes trailing up and down her body slowly. Natasha wasn't sure if he'd "accidentally" rip her skirt. And she wasn't sure if she'd have a problem with him doing it either.

"Why? Afraid to get your ass kicked by a girl in a skirt?" She retorted and Logan narrowed his eyes at her challenging smirk. He rolled his neck slowly and flexed subtly, not ready to back down from a challenge like that.

"Game on, darlin.'" Natasha grinned as she stepped towards the center of the room. Once there, she tossed a smirk at Logan, beckoning him with a finger.

And Logan charged head-on, fully prepared for whatever she would throw. As soon as he was close enough, Natasha stuck out her hand to knock him down and was surprised when Logan grabbed her wrist, making her flip without warning and gasp in surprise. Luckily, Natasha landed on her feet.

She swung at Logan and he ducked, still gripping her right wrist. Smirking, Logan twisted her around until he had her right arm bent behind her back. He was pressed against her back intimately and didn't even stop himself from inhaling her sweet scent.

"Warned ya, darlin'." Natasha found herself leaning back without meaning to and her neck lulled to the left, allowing Logan to bury his nose into the crook of her soft, creamy neck. Accidentally, she let out a soft moan and Wolverine was practically howling, banging himself against the bars of his cage.

_Focus._

Finally getting her mind together, Natasha swung her head back, catching Logan off guard. Once her wrist was released, she turned and punched Logan, impressing him because she hadn't hurt herself. He faintly wondered who the hell trained her.

Natasha landed another quick, surprising jab to Logan's jaw and swung her legs underneath Logan's and he fell on his back hard. Immediately, she was straddling him, skirt hiked up around her thighs and her right hand pressing into his throat. Logan gasped breathlessly and Natasha grinned toothily.

"For a big guy, you go down easily," she teased, hair framing her face and so close to Logan's face that each strand seemed to tickle his cheeks. He smirked before flipping them over, using all of his weight to effectively pin her down.

Even Natasha knew she wasn't getting out of this.

"And I thought you were supposed to be a psychic," he shot back and she chuckled, hair splayed about the metal floor. Logan stared down into those green eyes, which seemed so dark and deep and open.

It was so unnerving that it felt like she could see into his soul.

And even more so that he could almost see into hers.

Natasha frowned then, heart pounding against her ribcage. She didn't like this. Logan was staring at her all intensely and it was terrifying. The only person that was allowed to look at her like that was Jean and even Jean didn't do this. His eyes just seemed so…bottomless.

"St-stop," she whispered. Logan stared down at her still, inching closer to her face.

Wolverine didn't do relationships. They were too fucking emotional, too much of a hassle. They annoyed his soul and Logan usually agreed.

But he wasn't so sure with Natasha.

"I'm not doing anything that you don't want me to do," he replied lowly and he was so close, Natasha could smell the lingering scent of male body wash and cigar…

Jean cleared her throat at the door and both glanced up at her.

"I don't know if you two are aware, but we do have children who run through these halls and I'm pretty sure this would scar their eyes," Jean informed them and Natasha glanced down at their entwined bodies.

Logan lay comfortably in between her legs, one hand pinning her hip down. His other hand was on the ground, on the left of her face. Her skirt was hiked up to the extreme, almost broadcasting the red lace underwear she wore beneath it, revealing creamy thighs. They were pressed together so tightly as if they were one.

"Sorry about that, Red," Logan said sheepishly, climbing off of Natasha. "I was just teaching her a few things." Logan hadn't forgotten that Jean could kill his ass if he tried to play with her little sister.

Fucking with that psychic was definitely not on his agenda.

"Mhmm." Was the only reply he got out of Jean as she folded her arms over her chest, staring at them with a raised eyebrow. Logan pulled Natasha up by her hand, raising his own eyebrow when she retracted her hand quickly. Natasha refused to meet his eyes and Logan smirked.

Natasha was blushing.

"Well, get to bed. We're doing some research into Senator Kelly's disappearance and you might have to do some snooping on his jet," Jean told Natasha and she chuckled.

"Lucky me," she dragged out and Jean smirked, gave Logan one final warning look and walked out. Natasha exhaled deeply and Logan had the gall to laugh at her.

"You're blushing," Logan noted and Natasha shot him a dirty look.

"Fuck you," she snapped, grabbed her things and hurried out, leaving Logan chuckling to himself.

"Any time, darlin,'" he called behind her before grabbing his shirt. "Any time."

Oooooo

Marie rolled over on her bed, staring at the window. She was careful as to not wake up Natasha, who lay almost peacefully on the other side. It was rolling around midnight and she couldn't sleep. Natasha had checked up on her back at ten, sat and ate ice cream with her. They watched old episodes of Smallville, laughed at people's pain on America's Funniest Home Videos and fallen asleep talking about everything and nothing.

In only three days, Natasha had become the big sister she had never had.

But now Marie could only sit and think about home. Did her parents miss her? Did they even call the police and declare her missing? Did they even care? Or did they move on with their lives? Marie bit her lower lip at the thought, tears springing to her eyes. Sighing, she slid off the bed and onto her feet. Just as she was about to go get some tissue from the bathroom, she heard a groan followed by a louder one. They were filled with pain.

_Logan_ was the first name that popped into her head.

When they first arrived to the mansion, the Professor had noted that Marie only felt safe and secure with Natasha and Logan. So, instead of immediately booking her with other classmates, he allowed her to have the room in between the two adults. They'd find her a roommate when she began to grow comfortable enough.

Marie glanced at a sleeping Natasha, watching the woman roll over in her sleep. Smiling at her a little, she tip-toed to the door and slipped out quietly. Unbeknownst to her, Natasha opened her eyes sleepily, feeling a change in the atmosphere.

Something bad was about to happen.

Marie opened Logan's door as quietly as she could, wincing when it let out a creak. Stepping inside, she gave Logan a sympathetic look. He appeared so wound up and almost haunted by something. His skin was drenched in perspiration and he kept letting out little grunts of pain. She walked over to the bed and sighed.

For all of his brute strength and aloofness, Logan looked so vulnerable now. Marie wanted that pain to go away, even if that meant waking him. So, with resolve, she reached over, fingertips barely hovering over his skin.

But then Logan awoke suddenly, unaware of who or what was near him, and startling Marie. She let out a sharp scream as his claws sunk into her chest, which had Natasha springing out of bed. Marie's eyes widened as Logan inhaled sharply, pain and guilt stabbing him in the chest.

"I-I-I…" He couldn't get nothing out, didn't know what to say. He'd been in one of those dreams

Quickly, he unsheathed his claws, watching the blood pool on her long-sleeved nightgown. Marie swayed, eyes rolling to the back of her head.

"Please!" Logan yelled. "Somebody help!" He reached out to Marie, not sure what to do. Slowly and limply, Marie reached out a hand and touched his face. Just like that, Logan felt like every ounce of strength in his body was taken. He felt older suddenly, weaker. Everything that he was was escaping his body and somehow entering hers. Marie could feel the skin and muscle mending themselves and gasped just as Natasha stormed into the room.

"Marie, let him go," Natasha cried and Marie dropped her hands and let out a cry, tears springing to her eyes as Logan dropped to the ground, barely breathing. Storm and Scott rushed into the room soon after, running straight to Logan. Marie faintly heard something about a faint pulse before being pulled back into Natasha's arms.

"Oh my God, did you see her?" Some random kid in the hallway asked and Rogue glanced back at all of them to see them all jump; some even scared enough to take a few steps away. With a sob, she buried herself in Natasha's arms, willing for the night to be over and Logan to wake up.


End file.
